2017.12.14 Women's Health
As I sat in a parking lot on a frigid February night, trying to get up my nerve to walk inside the athletic club, a man with a shocked face rushed out of the building.
“Damn, they’re having some kind of wild party in there,” he said, saying he peeked into the pool room. “It’s a bunch of naked people!”
I started giggling, because in a few minutes, I was going to become one of said naked people.
My name is Blaine*, and I am a nudist. (Alright, go ahead and say it: “Hi Blaine!”)
Obviously, being a nudist isn’t something that just happens overnight. I’m an outgoing woman who loves chatting with people. But frankly, I was used to doing it the conventional way, with clothes on—until that fateful night almost five ago, when I joined that nudist party at the athletic club.
Ever since my college days, I have been sleeping in the nude, even in the dead of winter. I often hang out at home in the buff. I'm generally pretty comfortable with myself naked. But five years ago, after years of yo-yo dieting, I was at my heaviest weight. I definitely felt self-conscious about my size.
I had what you could call an “Oh, f—k it!” kind of moment in the months leading up to my birthday that year. I always felt good naked—why couldn't I feel like that all the time? I worked up the courage to try nudism as an act of confidence and freedom, and started reading about the nudist world. After lots of searching, I found a nudist group in my area that I thought I could try out. So a few weeks after my birthday, I wore my birthday suit to that athletic club. Now, I am going on five years in this clandestine lifestyle.
There are a lot of misconceptions about nudists. People assume it is all about sex, or that it's just a bunch of creepy, lecherous old men. But that hasn't been my experience at all. In fact, my delicious hobby—indulged by semi-monthly indoor swim parties, and summer trips to a nudist camp—has transformed my life.
Going to nudist events made me realize quickly that there is no "perfect" body. Nudists (or naturists, if you will) consider the human body a beautiful creation, and something of which no one should be ashamed. All your "flaws" are out in the open when you're naked—but then again, so are everyone else's. I see people of all ages, sizes, and body conditions. And none of them are alike. Breasts come in many shapes and sizes. Penises come in both “show-ers and grow-ers,” and circumcised and uncut. Most, if not all, bodies have scars, growths, and cellulite. You just don’t see these differences when people wear clothes. If people twice my age and size can bare it all and love their bodies, why can’t I?
As I said before, a nudist venue is not a sexual environment, though many people assume it’s a big orgy. Sexual and lewd behavior is strictly forbidden at naturist places, and anyone who misbehaves gets expelled. The environment feels very relaxed, safe, and friendly. We just do what you'd do at any normal social event—swim, chat, play board games, dance—with the additional element that everyone is naked. I meet people of all age groups, and it is an ever-revolving door where I see some favorite people regularly while constantly meeting new ones. We even have nudist Halloween parties. My award-winning costume this year was a sign hanging around my neck that said “Truth.” (Get it?)
When I shed my clothing, I shed with it my emotional and physical insecurities. After all, nudity is a major icebreaker. You literally have nothing to hide behind—making it easier for me to meet people and form friendships. It also enhances bonding with people you already know well. My bestie joined my world this year, and now, having gone nude camping multiple times together, we truly have no boundaries in our friendship. We are totally transparent and comfortable with each other, and our friendship is stronger than ever. That is what I consider to be true intimacy.
As strange as it may sound, I feel a greater love and acceptance for myself and my body as a nudist than I ever have while wearing clothes. I feel the most like myself. But here’s the flip side of that acceptance coin: I have been inspired to get more serious about my fitness and weight-loss efforts. Why? Now that I feel a healthy acceptance of my body, I feel all the more motivated to improve it. The body that I love is healthier than ever, and I consistently make an effort to nourish it, exercise it, and pamper it.
After all, I have quite the audience these days. And I love it.
